I remember when I was a young lad
So innocent and a bit of a twit
I was between 4 or 5, maybe 7
When I really fell in the shit

My mother was serving us dinner
Burgers, served with chips of course
When I, not paying attention
Rashly reached for the sauce

For what child of indeterminate age
Would want a ketchup-less burger
It would be like having spaghetti without bolognaise
I caution, dear reader, no further

For in my haste I had made the assumption
That probably doesn’t need to be said
That ketchup, so patently awesome
Is basically anything red

So I made an obvious error
I grabbed the first red thing I saw
And then when I tasted my burger
My forehead quickly hit the floor

For I had never tasted Tabasco
That Hot sauce from far off Latin shore
Imagine my mothers surprise when she
Heard a high pitched scream no-one could ignore

So that is the story dear reader
And hopefully realise my stance
On the time I had a bottle of hot sauce
And burned a hole in the back of my pants…